Weighted Down
by milk3002
Summary: Nan Flanagan finds herself spending more time in Bon Temps, cleaning up after the gang, but eventually finds herself fighting a war alongside them once Russell returns.  They're all here: Eric, Pam, Bill, Sookie, Lafayette, Jessica, Tara, Jason, Russell.
1. Chapter 1

_Nothing here is mine. Characters, etc. pretty much belong to Harris, Ball and HBO masters._

A sliver of moon dangled in the night sky outside the window, casting a cool glow across the living room. Jessica and Hoyt sat side by side on their couch, engulfed by the flowered upholstery, a picture of domesticity. They looked expectantly at Nan Flanagan, who sat across from them, suited and official, equipped with her Blackberry and a small notebook. Pam perched, bored, on the arm of an old lounge chair.

"I think I think that covers it," Ms. Flanagan said, closing her notebook. "Tomorrow, a small crew will arrive and set up, probably here in the living room." She looked around with a slight grimace. "It's quaint. They'll ask you both the questions we went over, and you will answer exactly the way you did just now."

Hoyt raised his finger, as if to ask permission to speak. "And this will be on TV?"

Ms. Flanagan nodded. "We are using it as stock video for any media inquiries, but it will also be featured in our "It Gets Deader" YouTube campaign."

"So we'll be on TV?"

"You'll be on the internet."

"Good," Hoyt's forehead creased with determination. "I want as many people as possible to know that vampires deserve every opportunity to be happy."

Jessica smiled and leaned into him. "Hoyt, that's so sweet."

Hoyt pecked her on the forehead and rose from the couch. "I'm going to go grab my dinner. Would anyone like any True Blood?"

An emphatic "No" resounded from the three vampires. Ms. Flanagan quickly recovered, stating, "Thank you, Hoyt, I had some before I came."

Pam rolled her eyes at the spokeswoman's diplomatic, and probably untrue, response. Hoyt, unconcerned, slid past Jessica and lurched off towards the kitchen. In the quick moment of silence, Ms. Flanagan turned her attention toward her Blackberry. Jessica stared curiously at the blonde for a moment, a question perched on her lips.

"Ms. Flanagan, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," Nan responded, her eyes still glued to the device in her lap.

"Who is your maker?"

Nan's head jolted upwards. Suspicion flickered briefly across her eyes, before her face resumed its blank, diplomatic expression. "I don't know."

This caught Pam's attention, and she flipped her head questioningly at Ms. Flanagan. Jessica jolted in disbelief. "You don't know?"

"No."

Jessica looked at her, incredulously. "So who taught you how to be a vampire then?"

"I learned on my own."

Pam spoke up softly. "The hard way." Ms. Flanagan twisted her neck towards her, fixing her with an icy glare.

Jessica, still unbelieving, asked, "How did you not know who your maker was? Didn't you see them? When it happened?"

Ms. Flanagan gave a breath of impatience. "The circumstances of my transition left me not entirely conscious."

Jessica continued her questioning. "You couldn't ever feel them?" She leaned back against the couch. "I feel Bill all the time, it's like a constant tug in my brain. You never felt anyone?"

"No."

"How old are you?"

"Older than you."

"Are you older than Bill?"

"Yes."

"What was it like to be a woman back then?"

"Hard."

"Do you have a progeny?"

"No."

"In all this time, you never made any other vampires?"

"No."

"Why?"

"They ask too many questions." Ms. Flanagan gave Jessica a harsh stare, and then rose from her chair. "I think we're done here. I'll let you know when to expect the crew tomorrow." She turned her head toward the armchair. "Pam. Will you be here tomorrow?"

"Probably not."

"See that you aren't." Ms. Flanagan strode towards the foyer. Jessica loped to the kitchen after Hoyt, and Pam followed the spokeswoman to the door. Placing her hand on the door knob, Ms. Flanagan turned to Pam and met her eyes.

"She's not your progeny."

"I know that," Pam replied.

"Then why do you find yourself connected to her?"

Anger flashed through Pam's eyes. "I don't," she replied. "I happen to enjoy watching her delusional train wreck of a domestic life."

Ms. Flanagan gave an icy smile. "I don't think you do."

Pam returned the smile. "I don't think I care what you think."

"Don't get connected to a progeny that isn't your own," Ms. Flanagan warned. "No good will come to them, you, or your maker."

Pam smirked. "This, coming from a little vampire orphan?"

Ms. Flanagan overlooked the remark. "You can choose to ignore this advice. I'll enjoy watching the shit show you create."

She opened the door and stalked toward her car, as Pam slammed the door behind her. She turned her head toward the kitchen, as Jessica playfully yelped. "Hoyt! I told you to get rid of those wooden utensils!" Pam turned her head toward the door momentarily, then flung it open and flashed out into the night.

* * *

><p>The air was heavy, the moon only slightly bigger than the previous night. Eric moved noiselessly through rows of brush, the rustle of the dry leaves grating against the silence. He came upon a clearing that overlooked a piece of land that at one time aspired to be a small neighborhood. Only two houses stood, one completed, the other merely a foundation and the outline of walls. Piles of cement, two-by-fours, abandoned bulldozers littered the development, remnants of a once thriving real estate economy. Eric noticed lights on in the completed house. Alcide and Debbie moved soundlessly inside. Eric moved to his right, his boots crunching pine straw. He focused on a small patio in the back of the house. A small table and two chairs sat upon a slab of concrete. Potted flowers outlined it, giving a homely aura to the structure. Eric flashbacked to a year earlier. Only he and two other beings knew how deep that concrete went.<p>

* * *

><p>The bass thumped through the office walls, and Pam strained to hear the caller on the other end of the line. "No, we do not have a Twitter page. Whatever deal was tweeted to your inbox does not apply to Fangtasia." She paused. "Have a nice, short life. Goodbye." She clicked the phone off and dropped it onto her desk. "Damn social media."<p>

A knock sounded at the door. "Come in," Pam called.

Sookie opened the door and poked her head in.

"Oh great." Pam cocked her head toward Sookie. "Look who's here."

"I came to see Eric."

"He's not here."

Sookie walked into the office and shut the door behind her. Pam watched her, only halfway amused at the girl's determination. "Did you hear me, blondie? He's not here."

"Well, can I wait in here?" Sookie asked.

"No," Pam replied. "You can wait outside and purchase a beverage."

Sookie stood her ground. "I would rather wait in here, if you don't mind. Those fangbangers frighten me."

Pam flashed around the desk and was upon Sookie in a split second, baring her fangs. "You would rather wait in here with me?" she whispered.

Sookie swallowed, shaking her head. "I know it doesn't make sense," she said, "but yes."

Pam tucked her fangs back in and sighed, shaking her head. "You are hopeless."

The phone rang out from the desk, and Pam sighed before picking it up. "Fangtasia, your Utopia for Controlled Sexual Terror. Can I help you?"

"Pam!" Jessica's panicked voice blared through the speaker, causing Pam to pull the phone away from her ear.

"Jessica?"

"Pam, I need help!"

"Have you killed someone?" Pam glanced at Sookie and smiled. Sookie looked toward the door, rethinking her decision to wait in the office.

"No!" Jessica's voice continued to bleed through the speaker. "Hoyt just stormed out of the house and the film crew is expected any minute. I don't know what to do!"

Pam rolled her eyes. "Girlfriend, you're a vampire. Sniff him out, put his balls in a vice, and bring him back home nice and pretty for the interview. Even a human woman could do that to her husband."

"No, Pam!" Again, Pam pulled the phone away from her ear. "He's hurt. And angry. I don't know what to do, I feel terrible. Should I call Ms. Flanagan?"

Pam shook her head. "No, Jessica, for heaven's sake. Is this about the midnight snack you had last night?" She once again looked over at Sookie and smiled.

"Yes," Jessica replied.

"See where making promises gets you?" Pam chided.

"Will you just please help?" Jessica pleaded.

"How am I supposed to help?" Pam glanced over one last time at Sookie, this time sneering at her, a mischievous gleam in her eye. Sookie noticed, and stared back at her, indignantly. "What?" she asked.

Pam spoke into the phone. "Jessica. We'll be right there."

Sookie spoke again, this time worry creeping into her voice. "What!" she repeated.

* * *

><p>Nan Flanagan stood seething in front of the television in her office, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. She watched as Jessica and Sookie beamed from the monitor.<p>

"Well, we met one night at Merlotte's," Jessica stated. "Through a mutual friend. Sookie here served me dinner, and from there it was love at first smell."

"Love at first sight," Sookie quickly interjected. The two of them smiled awkwardly as Jessica tossed her arm around Sookie's shoulder.

Nan flicked the television off with the remote she held in her hand, then threw the device at the television screen. She called out to a nearby assistant, her voice concentrated with venom. "Get me a car."


	2. Chapter 2

Ginger whistled as she pulled the remaining bottles of True Blood from the box, examining the new endorsement label from the American Vampire League, which read, _Be a leader, drink a liter._ She shook her head and loaded them into Fangtasia's refrigerated display, the bottles clanking against one another. A gust of wind ruffled her hair as the doors at the entrance of the club were thrown open violently. Ms. Flanagan stalked towards the bar, black heels clicking across the floor, her face composed into what Ginger believed was a permanent grimace.

"Oh, we're not open yet," she stated. "We'll be open for business in about an hour."

Nan ignored her, stopping in front of the bar and giving it a distasteful glance before placing her gloved hands on the grimy counter. "Where is Pamela?"

Ginger threw an uncertain look over her shoulder towards the back hallway. "Um, she's occupied at the moment."

Nan cocked her head and stared into the bartender's eyes, her blue orbs boring into Ginger's brain. She whispered threateningly, "Shall I ask you again?"

Ginger slowly shook her head and pointed towards the hallway. She stood transfixed, even after Nan stalked towards the back office.

* * *

><p>Pam leaned back in the office chair and stared up at the olive-skinned woman who stood over her, straddling her legs. One of the woman's high-heeled feet rested on the arm of the chair, hiking her skirt upward and giving Pam full access to her thigh. Pam leaned in as she bared her fangs, biting into the bare skin. The woman's back arched in pleasure as Pam sucked, one small dribble of blood loping slowly down her leg. As the woman heaved a sigh of pleasure, the door burst open, revealing Nan. Pam lifted her head quickly, launching the woman backwards onto the desk.<p>

Nan rolled her eyes and stalked inside. "Am I interrupting something?"

Pam wiped the blood off the corners of her mouth. "Ms. Flanagan. I thought I might be seeing you."

"What the hell is this?" Nan stepped forward, waving a blank disc and tossing it on the desk. The woman flinched and quickly pulled her skirt down. She scurried past Nan, but not before doing a double-take. "One smile at a time!" she exclaimed as she exited.

Pam watched her go, then returned her unflustered gaze to Ms. Flanagan. "We didn't have a choice. Hoyt disappeared. Your crew showed up. You can just be thankful I didn't fill in. I know how you feel about my inability to charm a camera." Pam smiled.

"This country has a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage and you want me to sell this tape as a reason why vampires should be more mainstream. You fucking imbecile –"

Pam flashed around the desk and came face to face with Nan, her lips pursed into a tight, angry frown. "If you want to lament the failings of your first directorial debut, feel free to do so in front of your paid staff. I kindly don't give a shit."

Nan didn't back down, but instead took a step closer. "The question is, Pam, what _do_ you give a shit about? Anything besides Eric and this dump you slave away in?"

"Eric is my Maker and my business partner."

Nan smirked. "How long have you been with Eric? Since he _made_ you? Are you that afraid to be without him or do you just really have no ambitions of your own?"

Nan watched, amused, as something other than anger flickered across Pam's eyes. The taller woman quickly recovered, and straightened her dress, smiling as she looked back up at the other blonde. "Ms. Flanagan," she said, her eyes cutting deep, "you really need to get laid."

The office door burst open and Ginger's anxious face appeared. "I don't mean to interrupt you ladies, but Pam, we got a bit of a problem outside."

Pam and Nan followed the bartender down the hallway and across the dance floor. As they approached the door, they heard loud, angry shouts from outside. Pam stuck her head outside the entrance. The shouts drifted inside, now intelligible.

"_Raise Him higher, stake a vampire! Raise Him higher, stake a vampire!"_

Pam rolled her eyes. "Goddamn protesters." She shut the door and turned towards Ms. Flanagan. "Winning them over one smile at a time, huh?"

Nan pressed her thumb and forefinger to the bridge of her nose. "Do you have another exit?"

The bartender piped up. "They got that one covered, too, sorry. That's where the fangbangers mostly go to… fang."

"What's the matter?" Pam smiled, eyeing Nan's leather coat, knee-high boots, and gloves. "Afraid to be caught on camera without a suit and a string of pearls?"

"No," Nan protested. "But I see no reason to indicate that the American Vampire League or the Authority has anything to do with this cesspool of grime. Not in front of a bunch of zealots with cameras." Nan pointed toward the doors as she loped back to the bar and took a seat. "Does this not affect your business?" She looked around. "What little business you have?"

"No," Pam replied, "on the contrary, it brings out the sympathizers that would've never been caught dead at Fangtasia."

The bartender giggled. "No pun intended," she called chipperly, as she clipped back towards the bar.

Both Pam and Nan rolled their eyes. Nan, not forgetting the purpose of her visit, stated, "Pam, you will help reshoot this video. And this time, make it a straight shot."

Pam tossed her head. "Did I miss something? Did I apply for a position at AVL? Why is this my responsibility?"

"Because I don't enjoy wasting my time on bullshit. It seems right up your alley, however."

Pam shook her head and walked behind the bar. "Whatever."

A loud voice piped up from outside, yelling _"You'll never go to Heaven!"_ A twangy, determined female voice responded,_ "Oh yeah! I've been there already, and it looks a lot like hell!_

The door burst open for a second time that night, and Sookie's small frame appeared. Nan's back straightened immediately, her senses picking up on Sookie's scent. She stood and took a step forward, intrigued.

"You're Sookie Stackhouse."

Sookie walked toward the bar, her sneakers flapping against the concrete floor. "And you're that AVL woman that's always on television. And the newest issue of _Good Housekeeping_."

Nan extended her hand. "Nan Flanagan."

Sookie shook her hand, then gazed at her suspiciously. "How do you know who I am? I'm not on television."

"Not yet." Nan smiled, warmly, and Pam took notice of her changed behavior. "You made an appearance in an AVL-commissioned video last night."

Sookie nodded. "Right. About that - "

Pam interrupted. "Sookie, what are you doing here? Again."

Sookie looked over at Pam. "Eric told me to meet him here."

"Why doesn't he speak to you at his house? That one that he owns?"

Sookie shook her head. "I don't know, Pam, Eric doesn't explain his every move to me. And, I'd rather have him out of my house than in it, thank you very much."

Nan looked back and forth at the two of them, confusion crossing her features. "Excuse me," she interjected, her eyes narrowing with disbelief, "you live with Eric Northman?"

The doors opened again, this time dumping a group of vampire patrons into the club. Two humans straggled closely behind. Pam took advantage of the interruption. "Sookie, go wait in the office."

Sookie nodded, then looked back at Nan, who was staring at her with a strange look on her face. "Nice meeting you, Ms. Flanagan." She turned on one foot and loped back to the office.

Pam began prepping glasses, and avoided Nan's probing stare. "Pam," she asked, a bit breathlessly, "what is she?"

* * *

><p>Eric sat before Bill's desk and clasped his hands on top of his crossed legs. "Yes, <em>King<em>?"

Bill grimaced at Eric's sarcastic use of the word, but responded with an even tone. "I have reason to believe that the head necromancer of the Wiccan coven has gone missing."

Eric started, his eyes widening for a moment before he regained his composure. "What makes you believe that?"

"The fact that she's… missing. My contact within the coven has not been able to locate her."

Eric leaned back in his chair, exuding a calm that he didn't quite feel. "I fail to see how this is a problem for us."

Bill leaned forward, and stared at the Nordic. "Keep your enemies close, Eric."

"I do, Bill. Why do you think you and I are so inseparable?"

Bill ignored the remark, and continued, "If Marnie is missing, she could be attempting to start a coven in another area."

"Again, if it's not my area, how is my problem? I don't want anything to do with covens for another 500 years, at the least."

"Noted," Bill responded. "But, Eric, if we are to contain the witches, we must band together with other areas in order to put a stop to any new covens that may arise. If an organized group of necromancers should surface, well… you know the consequences."

Eric rose. "All too well, Bill."

Bill rose as well, walking out from behind his desk. "Do you mind reaching out to Sheriffs in adjacent areas to see if they've had any problems with Wiccans? Any new covens? Or any notice of Marnie or necromancers?"

"No, King, it sounds like a wise use of my skills." Eric turned toward the door, but took a step back toward Bill, leaning into him. "Does The Authority know that you didn't eliminate the coven completely?"

Bill pursed his lips. "Does The Authority know that you didn't give Russell Edgington a true death?"

Eric laughed softly. "Bill. Glad we're so… close. I will keep you updated on what I find out about the coven. You have my word." Eric walked out of Bill's office, waving to the security guard posted outside the door.

Bill nodded to himself. "As if that means anything."


	3. Chapter 3

_Thanks to those who are reading, and especially to those of you who left a quick review. I enjoy your input. It's very much appreciated!_

* * *

><p>Pam flipped her hair nonchalantly, and attempted to busy herself with stacking glasses at the bar, avoiding Nan's gaze. She noticed, to her chagrin, her fingers trembled slightly as Nan's eyes bored into her, waiting for an answer to her question.<p>

"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied, her eyes finally meeting Nan's.

"Her scent is different, Pam."

Ginger shuffled past Pam, struggling with the empty True Blood boxes. "Smells like _Curve_ to me," she piped up. "I stopped wearing that in eighth grade, but to each her own."

"Ginger," Pam hissed at her, "go away."

The bartender looked from Pam to Nan, shrugged her shoulders, and walked to the other end of the bar, tossing the boxes onto the floor. Pam kept her eyes on Nan, who had now turned her head toward the back hallway that Sookie disappeared into moments earlier. Pam spoke up, not particularly enjoying the protective feeling that arose within her. She generally associated that feeling with Eric only.

"Ms. Flanagan, there is nothing special about Sookie Stackhouse. Aside from the way she wears a pair of cutoff jean shorts."

Nan returned her blue-tinged gaze to Pam and shook her head slowly, her lips forming a straight line. "I don't appreciate being lied to Pam," she whispered. "For some reason, everyone in Bon Temps thinks the opposite."

Pam paused, calculating her next remark. Again, she didn't enjoy the feeling creeping up her spine, this time a mixture of uncertainty and fear. "If you want to learn anything about Sookie Stackhouse, then maybe you should talk to the King of Louisiana." She gave Nan a pointed glare. "Or is he lying to you, too?"

Nan flinched faintly, and Pam noticed, watching as the blonde's lower lip trembled from anger. "Are you asserting something against your King?"

"I would never say anything treasonous about our King," Pam replied, sarcasm dripping from her tone.

"I'm sure you wouldn't, as that's an offense punishable by death."

Pam rolled her eyes. "What isn't?"

Nan's torso darted forward fast, across the counter, her face stopping inches away from Pam's. Her fangs popped out, protruding slightly, as she stared at the other woman. "Pam," she said vehemently, "you're insolent. And you're fortunate that your Maker is a lucky fuck who hasn't yet been caught playing games with the Authority. Do you really want to mess up that track record?"

Pam's fangs popped out in response, as she hissed back, "Do you really want to find out?"

Nan laughed, amused, her fangs retracting as she pulled back and placed her hands on the counter. "Pam, you are either stupid, have incredibly large balls, or you are very protective of your Maker. I'm suspecting all three." She continued to smile, seemingly entertained. Pam's fangs popped back into her mouth. She felt foolish, and she resented the AVL spokeswoman for making her feel that way. Before she could speak again, Nan smirked at her once more and flashed out of the club entrance, leaving the protesters in a gust of wind.

* * *

><p>Eric stepped into the back entrance of Fangtasia, and strolled down the hallway to the back office. Pam, still standing at the bar, sensed him immediately, and in a split second she was in front of Eric, staring up at him. "We got a problem," she said, halting him by placing a manicured hand on his chest.<p>

Eric sighed, and walked past her. "What else is new?"

"Nan Flanagan met Sookie tonight. She immediately picked up on her scent."

Eric stopped and turned back to Pam, his face suddenly serious. "Does she know what she is?" he asked, urgently.

Pam shook her head. "No, but she knew something was off. I could see it, Eric, her whole body trembled when she smelled her. So she must have sensed something."

"Where is she?"

"Sookie? She's in your office."

Eric shook his head, and took a few deliberate steps closer to the doorway of the office. He could sense that Sookie awaited him inside. He looked over at Pam. "No. Where is Nan?"

Pam shrugged her shoulders. "I think she may have gone to visit Bill Compton."

Eric cut his eyes at the entrance of the office, looked back at Pam and spoke loudly, his voice carrying into the room where Sookie sat waiting for him. "To find out about Sookie?"

Inside the office, Eric's voice had his desired effect as Sookie creased her brow at the mention of her name. She turned her ear toward the door, straining to hear more.

"I don't know," Pam responded.

Eric spoke, his voice still carrying. "I don't trust Bill. I don't trust that he won't betray Sookie's secret."

Sookie sighed impatiently, and cocked her head toward the door, calling out, "I can hear you talking about me, Eric."

She was met with a smile from Eric as he and his progeny walked into the office.

"Hi Sookie," Eric said pleasantly, walking toward his desk. "How are you this evening?"

Sookie stood and faced him. "I'm fine, Eric." She paused, and took a breath. "Tara's moving back in with me."

Eric raised his eyebrows in surprise. "You mean with us?"

"Yes."

"Great."

"Great?"

"The more the merrier."

Confusion crossed Sookie's face. "You're not interested in _why_ I want her to move in with me?"

"No." Eric walked around to his office and flipped through a few receipts, ignoring Sookie's adamant look.

"What were you saying about Bill?" she asked.

Eric didn't glance up, continuing to flip through his ledger. "The usual. He's not to be trusted."

"Neither are you," Sookie reminded him.

Eric finally glanced up at her. "Maybe not by some, but you can trust me, Sookie."

Sookie rolled her eyes, and took a step toward the door. "I'm over this. I'm going back to work."

Eric gestured toward Pam, who still stood by the office door. "Pam, will you accompany Sookie back?"

Sookie protested, "No!" as Pam asked, "Why?"

"Pam, please."

Pam grimaced and gave Eric a disgusted look. "I'm not riding in that podunk mobile with her." Sookie pursed her lips at Pam, offended by the slight. A look from Eric closed the matter. "_Fine,_" Pam said, frustrated, but obedient. "But what are you going to do about Ms. Flanagan?"

Eric looked up at the two of them, thoughtful. "Nothing," he said. "If Ms. Flanagan wants to ask me any questions, she knows where she can find me."

"Nothing?" Pam asked, surprised. She started to protest, but then looked at Sookie and threw up her hands. "I'm done caring about this shit." Sookie rolled her eyes and stalked out of the office, Pam following closely behind.

* * *

><p>Bill raised his voice into the phone, his feet propped leisurely on his desk. "Yes, thank you, Alcide. I'm glad things are going well for you and Debbie, and that she is fully recovered. You let me know if anything strange arises between now and then." Bill rested the telephone on his shoulder as he picked up a remote and flicked on his television. Nan Flanagan's image appeared on the screen, seated across from Larry King. "Ah, one more thing, Alcide – " Bill began. Before he could finish his thought, Nan Flanagan strode into the room without knocking, stopping in front of Bill's desk. She fixed him with a furious glare, her blue eyes staring darkly down at him.<p>

Bill removed his feet from his desk and straightened his posture. "Ah, I have got a visitor and I must go. I will be in touch with you soon. Thank you." Bill hung up the phone and rose in greeting. "Ms. Flanagan, what can I do for you? I did not know you were in Bon Temps this evening."

Nan smiled. "I had the pleasure of running into Sookie Stackhouse tonight at Fangtasia."

Bill's smile disappeared into a slightly more panicked expression. Nan caught his troubled look, and noticed that he tried to cover it with a slight smile. "At Fangtasia?" he asked.

"Cut the bullshit, Bill." Nan stepped closer to him, and peered into his eyes, silently calculating his demeanor. "When I appointed you King, do you remember what I asked you?"

Bill nodded. "I do," he said quietly.

"Do you want to answer that question truthfully now?"


	4. Chapter 4

Tara walked through the back entrance to Merlotte's, letting the door slam behind her. She grabbed a clean white towel off of a shelf in the hallway and threaded it through the loop on her jean shorts. Lafayette stood at the kitchen window, a purple wrap covering his head, garnishing two dishes with lemons. Tara stopped and leaned one elbow against the counter. "Hey, Lafayette."

He ignored her, scratching his ear and devoting his rapt attention to the positioning of the lemons. Tara pursed her lips and put a hand on her hip. "Godammit, Lafayette, why aren't you talking to me?"

Lafayette wiped his hands on his apron, and looked past Tara. "Order up," he called, turning his back. Tara shook her head and retraced her steps, this time storming into the kitchen.

"Lafayette, don't be a little bitch. Save that for your boyfriend."

"Hooker, I ain't got nothin' to say to your ass," Lafayette said as he began to slice potatoes and toss them into a bowl. "You want to live with a vampire, then be my guest."

"I'm protecting Sookie!"

Lafayette whirled around to look at her, his eyebrows raised, the knife waving in his hand. "Girlfriend, how you protecting her? What you doing? Did you gain some magical voodoo, vampire controlling powers that I didn't know about?"

Tara looked at the ground for a moment and took a deep breath. "Look, Lafayette, between Jason's wolf hormones and Eric's dead hormones, I don't want her there by herself. Who else is gon' protect her? I'm the only human friend she's got!"

Lafayette threw his hands up in surrender. "You know what, Tara, you just as stubborn as she is. Both of y'all are crazy." He turned back to his potatoes, slicing harder.

"Lafayette, just a couple of months ago you dragged me into a witch's coven where I was damn near bitten by a vampire. And I'm crazy?"

Lafayette cut his eyes at her and laid the knife down on the cutting board. He leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms, looking at his cousin with concern. "Tara, I don't know why you decided to come back here, after you had it good in New Orleans. I really don't."

"My family's here," she said simply.

Lafayette grunted. "Huh. Whatever, bitch. I guarantee the pussy here ain't nearly as good. Look what it turned me into."

"Shut your shit." Tara let loose a small smile and raised her eyebrows. "We cool?"

"Hooker, no we ain't cool. Now get up out my face." Lafayette raised himself off the counter and picked up his knife, giving her a small, playful grin. Tara nodded and walked out of the kitchen towards the bar. She nodded at Sam, who stood behind the register, and snatched the towel from her jeans. As she began to wipe down a collection of tequila glasses, a small bell chimed from the entrance, signaling the arrival of new customers. Without looking up from her task, Tara gave an unemotional greeting. "Welcome to Merlotte's."

She lifted her head as the patrons made their way toward the bar. Her mouth dropped open as Sookie waltzed in followed by Pam, who had disgust plastered across her face. Tara dropped the tequila glass she held, its shattered pieces scattering across the counter. The sound sent Sam running over. "Tara?" He looked up at Pam, then back at his bartender.

"Pam," Tara said. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Jessica skipped over. "Hey Pam," she piped.

"Hi Jessica."

"What are you doing here?" Tara asked, fear creasing her brow.

"Relax, I'm just escorting Sookie back to work."

Sookie turned to Pam. "Technically, I did the escorting. I drove and all."

Pam narrowed her eyes and looked down at her. "Are we done here? Do you consider yourself safe? Have I delivered you from evil and all that?"

"Yes." Sookie nodded, somewhat appreciatively.

"Okay, then," Tara piped up, talking in Pam's direction, if not exactly looking at her. "I guess you can leave now."

Sam put his hand on the small of Tara's back. He stuck his hand out to Pam, and gave her a small smile. "I'm Sam Merlotte."

Pam accepted his hand with a curl of her lip. "Pam de Beaufort. This is quaint. You should be real proud."

Tara intervened. "She's a vampire, Sam. She works with Eric."

Sam raised his eyebrows and gestured to the bar. "Well, can I get you a glass of True Blood?"

Jessica and Pam rolled their eyes. "No thank you," the blonde vampire responded. "I'm just gone see myself out. Y'all have a nice night."

Jessica shifted as Pam turned to walk towards the door. "Hey Pam, you got a minute?"

Pam looked at Jessica, her face masked in mock interest. "For you, darlin'?" Her interest disappeared, as she deadpanned, "Yes, I have _one_ minute."

Jessica motioned for Pam to follow her, and the two vampires walked down the hallway, past the kitchen window, where once again Lafayette dressed two plates with a lemon garnish. His eyes widened as Pam walked by, giving him a wink as she passed. "Goddamnit," he muttered to himself. He looked out of the window opening towards Tara, who stood watching. _What the fuck? _he mouthed to her. Tara shook her head, shrugged and put up her hands.

_Welcome back, hooker, _Lafayette mouthed. Tara rolled her eyes and continued to clean up the shattered glass. Arlene whizzed by, but stopped cold at the site of the jagged pieces of glass. "Um, Tara, don't you think you should put on some gloves to clean that up? We have _vampires_ here. One nick of the hand and this place could go up in fangs."

* * *

><p>The back door opened with a creak and Pam followed Jessica down the stairs. A poorly lit street lamp cast a yellow glow around them. Pam looked around her with a slight frown on her face, and patted her hair. "What is it, Jessica?"<p>

Jessica beamed at her. "Hoyt's back."

"That's unpleasant."

"Pam," Jessica chided. "He was very hurt. I'm his number one, he says." Jessica stared at the ground for a moment, brushing her foot across the pine straw. "He says he doesn't even look at other girls."

"That's unpleasant."

"So I told him I would never do anything like that again."

"That's unpleasant." Pam faked a yawn, and patted her hair again before crossing her arms over her chest.

Jessica looked up at her, hesitating. "And then I glamoured him."

Pam's eyes widened with a flash of intrigue and the right side of her lip curved up into a half smile. "Well, now that is _unpleasant_."

Jessica shook her head, putting her thumb to her lip. "I know, I shouldn't have done it."

"No, you shouldn't have," said Pam, frustration appearing underneath her bored posture. "You shouldn't be wasting your time glamoring a man who married you knowing exactly what you are. What a goddamn waste of energy."

Jessica looked down at the ground. "Bill said I should just be honest."

"Oh, did he?" Pam scoffed. "And you listened to Bill Compton?"

"Well, he understands that I love Hoyt, and that I don't want to hurt him."

"And did he recommend glamouring him?"

"No," Jessica conceded, rubbing her toe into the ground. "He recommended just telling the truth." She looked up at Pam, defiance coating her words. "But he didn't address the part where Hoyt got angrily hurt, and I just wanted him to feel better."

Pam sighed impatiently. "Whatever advice he gave you will not end your problems, because your problems don't have anything to do with Hoyt. They have to do with only you, and who you really are." She peered down at Jessica. "Bill Compton is blinded by faerie pussy. He clearly shouldn't be your go-to on this issue."

"He's my Maker, Pam."

"Your Maker doesn't always know what's best, Jessica, for you or for him." She paused, and a brief flicker of confusion crossed her eyes as she let her own words sink in. Eric flashed briefly through her mind as uneasiness settled in her stomach.

"On the other hand," Pam replied, with a cunning smile, "you are becoming one hell of a vampire."

Jessica blushed and gave a slight smile. Pam winked at her and whisked away into the woods. Jessica stood for a moment outside and watched the trees shake in Pam's wake. Arlene's head popped out of the back door, her face twisted in impatience.

"Unless you're on a snack break, which would holy terrify me, I need some help with these tables. They don't serve themselves." She slammed the door shut behind her as she stalked back down the hallway, out of sight. Jessica shrugged her shoulders and heaved herself back inside with a sigh.

* * *

><p>"Ms. Flanagan, I told you, there is nothing to Sookie Stackhouse."<p>

Nan took a step closer to Bill. Her eyes bored into him with the force of a backhanded slap. "There's a problem when I can't believe what a King tells me," she said, her voice low. "It's a problem for me, but it's a bigger problem for you, once the Authority finds out you're withholding information."

Bill pursed his lips and walked over to the door, closing it softly. "I cannot say what she is, Nan." He paused. "I don't want to put you in danger."

"Oh fuck you, Bill," Nan spat. "You didn't mind putting me danger back in '83. Or '87. Do you _remember_ that meeting with Reagan?"

Bill nodded. "Unfortunately, yes."

Nan walked over to where Bill stood, her finger sticking into his chest. "Tell me what she is or I will have you meet the true death so fast you won't know what hit you." She cocked her head and widened her eyes in mock concern. "And then who will be here to protect your precious Sookie Stackhouse?" She felt the fear rise in Bill's throat, and she took advantage of it. "Eric Northman?"

Bill swallowed his fear. "You cannot take this to the Authority," he stated, adamantly.

"If you continue to waste my time, Bill, I'm walking out of this room and going straight _to_ the Authority."

"You must promise me, Nan," Bill pleaded. "What I am about to tell you is bigger than the Authority. We may have a war on our hands: in another dimension."


	5. Chapter 5

Alcide lifted his head toward the sky, gazing above the oak and magnolia trees that framed his backyard. The moon cast a white glow upon their leaves, and a slight breeze ruffled them, creating moving shadows upon the lawn. He stepped off the cement patio and wandered closer to the periphery of the yard, his bare feet traversing over damp grass, his eyes still focused on the half moon. His phone buzzed in his back pocket, momentarily breaking his reverie. He fished the device out of his jeans and looked at the display, which showed a text message from "Sookie Stackhouse."

_Thanks for your message, Alcide. We're fine, except that Jason keeps clogging the drain. He's a lot more hairy these days._

Alcide smiled to himself and slid the phone back in his pocket. Leaves rustled a few yards away from him, and a new scent caught his attention, one that differed from the smell of damp grass. He scented another wolf. He tossed a quick glance back to his house and glimpsed Debbie through the small kitchen window that overlooked the patio. Her blonde head was bent over the sink, her hands scrubbing dishes from that night's dinner. Alcide turned his attention back to the woods surrounding the yard.

He heard another distinct rustling, this time to his left, separate from the first. He stripped off his shirt, slowly, silently, and let it flutter to the ground, preparing himself to morph if he should find himself confronted by the creature. The leaves shivered again, but this time Alcide heard voices, whispering rapidly in the dark. His fingers fumbled with his belt buckle, his heart beating faster, signaling his body was preparing to morph. He took a stealth step toward the trees, but halted abruptly as he found himself facing two pair of very human eyes.

The yellowish eyes widened, then backed away from him, slowly, then faster, before disappearing into the woods. The trees shook and the rustling faded into the distance. Alcide ran several yards into the woods, but the trees swaying in the distance promised that the creature was no longer a threat. He let out the breath that he had been holding, fear settling into the pit of his stomach.

Alcide heard Debbie's voice call from the house. "Alcide! Honey?" He walked back towards the yard, giving her a wave as he stepped out of the trees and back onto the lawn. Debbie waved back and shook her head as she watched him bend down to pick up his discarded shirt. "Wolves will be wolves," she said to herself before turning back inside the kitchen, the door shutting softly behind her. Alcide tossed a suspicious glance over his shoulder as he walked back towards the back door of the house. The trees were still and silent. He gave the patio wall a kick as he stepped up and crossed toward the door, glancing at the flowers that framed the cement-covered space. They were dead.

* * *

><p>Bill walked toward the door and shut it gently, turning to face Nan, who wore an impatient expression. Bill walked closer to her, hesitating for a moment before he spoke, mentally calculating the risk his words would pose. "I have reason to believe… that Sookie has ties to the Fae."<p>

Nan's eyes remained blank as she stared up at Bill, refusing him a reaction. She inhaled slowly, then breathed out before stating, "You've got to be kidding me."

Bill paced away from her, toward the window. Nan pressed him. "She's a faerie?"

Bill paced back to her, his face a mask of stone. "I have reason to believe that she is a human-faerie hybrid, yes."

Nan watched as Bill paced back to the window. "Did Sophie-Ann know this? Is this why she enlisted you?"

Bill halted and turned toward her. "Yes."

"And how did she know about Sookie?"

"Her human lover was a cousin of Sookie's."

Nan appeared surprised. "Blood is thicker than… blood."

"Sophie-Ann was a powerful vampire," Bill responded.

"Yes, she was." She gave Bill a pointed stare. "And let's not forget I killed her." Nan sighed. "I'm assuming you have real evidence causing you to believe that Sookie is a fairy?"

Bill looked down at the ground. "I have collected a file on her. And I have… tasted her."

Nan stared at him. "So you're telling me that I should have assassinated you instead of Sophie Ann?"

"Sophie Ann had no intention of telling you anything about Sookie."

"Neither did you."

"I had to make sure I knew what I was dealing with."

"The Fae are dangerous, Bill. They're master manipulators who hide what they truly are. "I've always wondered why they didn't run for office," Nan murmured.

"Nan, you can't go to the Authority with this."

Nan's head snapped back up to Bill's her blue eyes flashing with anger. "And why the hell shouldn't I? They decide to kill you, Eric, and all of you who are persistently wasting my time?" She raised her eyebrows. "Sounds like a good deal to me."

"Sookie has connections to the Fae world, Nan. She has been transported there on more than one occasion. We must tread carefully, as I do not know what their motives are. The last thing we want is for the Fae to start a war with us. You know only too well how ruthless they can be."

Nan stalked towards the chair behind Bill's desk and lowered herself into it. "The last thing I need is those goddamned creatures of light brainwashing the human public against us."

"I am not yet aware of their goals outside of the Fae dimension," offered Bill, standing in front of the desk and staring down at Nan.

"Well, it seems that it will be easy for us to find that out." She peered back at him.

"How?"  
>"Let's talk to Ms. Stackhouse."<p>

"No. I will not put her in danger."

Nan scoffed. "I think you already did that the minute you accepted Sophie-Ann's mission. What I wonder, is why you accepted that mission in the first place, seeing as it had nothing to do with any direction from the Authority."

"Nan, you know my loyalty lies with the Authority, it always has. You know me well enough to know that."

"Doesn't mean I trust you, Bill."

Bill brought his hands up, placating her. "Let me talk to Sookie. She'll be willing to talk to me, but only if she feels safe. You can't take this to anyone higher right now, otherwise it could mobilize the Fae to act before we are ready."

"I assume," Nan replied, ignoring him, "that Eric Northman also knows this information?"

Bill sighed. "Yes. He has attempted to use it to his advantage on more than one occasion."

Nan rolled her eyes. "That doesn't surprise me. Fucking Viking."

"So you will let me talk with Sookie, and find out more about the Fae dimension before you go further with this?"

Nan rose from her chair. "I'll give you forty-eight hours, Bill. Then I'm going to the Authority." She stalked around him. "But if anything else should be remotely amiss in Louisiana before then, I will personally turn you over to the Authority." She grasped the door knob. "Always a pleasure, Mr. Compton."

Bill nodded his head at her as she stepped out of the office door. "Ms. Flanagan."

Nan stalked into the foyer of the mansion, nodding to the guard that opened the front door for her. A beep sounded and she picked her phone from her jacket pocket, placing it to her ear. "This is Nan." She continued her walk toward the car that awaited her in the driveway. "Yes. I'm meeting with him for dinner. Blockmann is at 8:00, so I'll need the draft before then. Yes." She opened the rear car door and climbed inside. The driver meandered out of the circular drive and exited out of the main gate, picking up speed as the tires hit the main road. A figure stepped out of the shadows, watching as the car's taillights disappeared into the distance. She crossed her arms, her manicured fingernails shining in the moonlight. She flashed away in the opposite direction, the main gate creaking slightly in her wake.

* * *

><p>Alcide wiped his brow with his forearm and gathered his tools, dropping them into a small yellow toolbox that sat on the back of the toilet. He paused in front of the bathroom mirror and gingerly raked his fingers through his brown hair, attempting to pat a few stray hairs into place, then giving up on the effort. He grabbed the toolbox and walked out of the bathroom and down the stairs, taking a moment to take in the pictures that lined the staircase. Various portraits of Sookie, Jason, and an older woman, who he took to be their grandmother, stared back at him from the wall.<p>

He continued on downstairs, and found Sookie in the kitchen. Her back was to him, and he watched her for a moment as she filled two glasses with ice water. He shifted his toolbox, the tools clanking inside it. Sookie turned and held a glass of water out to him. He accepted it with a smile. "Well," he said, then took a long sip. "We got you squared away, Sookie. Drain's no longer clogged, and I fixed that leak from the toilet."

Sookie shook her head with a bright smile. "Alcide, I can't thank you enough, especially for coming after work and all. You would think with a supernatural landlord, this stuff would get fixed right away, but Eric hasn't got a clue about plumbing."

Alcide drained the rest of the glass. "Well, glad I could help. And you never hesitate to call me, all right?"

"Would you like something to eat?" Sookie offered. "It's getting late."

Alcide smiled for a moment before peering bashfully down at the ground. "I'd better not, actually. Better get home. Debbie gets real particular about me being home for dinner. I think it helps to have someone around the house, you know, so she don't get distracted."

Sookie nodded, attempting to cover her frown. "Right. She did say she relies on you and Jesus. I guess you're around a little more."

Alcide laughed, his eyes shining, and his gaze lingered on Sookie for a moment. The two stood, awkwardly, until a voice resounded behind them.

"Alcide," Eric said, entering the kitchen, his eyes narrowing for a moment. "How nice to see you."

Alcide turned toward Eric and shifted his tools again. "Hey, Eric." He stuck his hand out, and Eric shook it.

"To what do we owe this pleasure?"

Alcide motioned toward Sookie, who was taking a sip of water. "Sookie mentioned she had some plumbing problems, so I stopped by on my way home from work to take a gander at it."

Eric looked at Sookie, attempting to cover up an embarrassed frown. "Sookie, I told you I would handle the problem tonight when I rose."

"Well, it's fixed now, Eric, thanks to Alcide. Now you don't have to worry about it."

Eric pursed his lips. "I guess not." He turned once again to Alcide. "Thank you. I don't have to remind you, your debt has been paid."

Alcide nodded. "Yes, of course." He looked back at Sookie, who stared at Eric, who was giving Alcide a prolonged stare. "Well, I should go," he said, turning toward the front foyer.

Sookie followed him, and the two stopped at the front door. "Thank you again, Alcide, I really appreciate you." Alcide smiled. "Of course, Sookie. You can always call on me."

Sookie smiled and placed a quick kiss on his cheek. Her face flushed as she stepped down off her toes, and she opened the door for him. "Take care, Alcide."

"You too, Sookie," he said as he stepped off the porch, giving her a slight wave. He glanced once more at her as she disappeared inside and he dropped the toolbox in the back of his truck. He opened the driver side door and jumped inside, placing the key in the ignition before jumping at the sound of a voice next to him. "Alcide." Eric sat in the passenger's seat, staring at him, his elbow resting on the open passenger window.

"Jesus Christ, Eric!" Alcide exclaimed, pounding his fist into the steering wheel.

"Didn't mean to give you a fright," Eric apologized.

Alcide nodded, sarcastically. "Right."

"I assume everything's fine on the home front," Eric stated.

"Yes," Alcide replied, understanding his meaning. "Everything in its place," he said pointedly, omitting the pair of human eyes he confronted the previous night.

Eric nodded, pleased. "Good." Eric opened the car door and stepped out. He tipped his head inside the open window. "Alcide, you haven't heard of any witch covens popping up on your side of town, have you?"

Alcide looked momentarily confused. "Witches? No."

"My work here is done. Thank you, Alcide. Tell Debbie I said hello."

"Sure," Alcide responded, turning the key in the ignition. The engine roared to life as Eric backed away from the truck. As Alcide backed down the driveway, he saw Eric flash away.


	6. Chapter 6

Assistants rushed by, fingers working rapidly on their smartphones while techs and operators bustled about in the hallway, shouting commands through their headsets. Ms. Flanagan stood quietly, backstage, watching Piers Morgan summarize the day's news. She glanced down at her watch, wondering when the opposition guest was due to arrive. She looked up and saw a stagehand approaching, a tall brunette flanking his side, an American flag pinned to the lapel of her suit.

"Mrs. Bachmann, if you don't mind waiting here alongside Ms. Flanagan, we will call you onto the stage in about four minutes." Nan plastered a smile across her face, and extended her hand toward the oncoming politician, who already had her hand out in greeting.

"Ms. Flanagan, it is such a pleasure to meet you." The woman grasped Nan's hands in a hard shake, her blue eyes flashing under the fluorescent lights.

"Mrs. Bachmann," Nan replied, with a bright smile. "So nice to meet you as well. I see you're doing very well in the primary race so far."

"Well, we're just giving America what it asks for," the woman returned, pumping her fist in the air with a bedazzled smile. Nan smiled politely, her stoicism effectively masked. The brunette moved closer to Nan, angling her head toward the blonde, her voice lowering in confidence. "Now, Nan, I know that you're a vampire, and I just want to say that I have many vampires constituents in my home state of Minnesota. I really understand the plight of the night creature."

Nan cocked her head and raised an eyebrow.

"I used to be a Wiccan back in college," she confided.

"Ah," Ms. Flanagan stated, nodding her head with feigned interest, "weren't we all."

Mrs. Bachmann placed her hand on Nan's forearm and edged still closer, unaware of Nan's clenched jaw. "I hope we can keep this debate cordial," she said.

Nan narrowed her eyes. "I'm always cordial, Mrs. Bachmann."

Mrs. Bachmann nodded and removed her hand from Nan's arm. "Yes, well, vampires usually are, what with your Olde English and your polite society manners." She smiled, her eyes narrowing. "What I mean to say is we should keep this debate on the topic at hand. Nothing too personal. The American people don't want to hear hersey, they want to hear facts."

"_Facts_," Nan emphasized, baring her teeth in a fake smile. "That doesn't strike me as your strong suit, Mrs. Bachmann." She pulled her arm from the politician's grasp. "However, I happen to know, _for a fact_, that your husband accepted money in exchange for vampire blood in order to help fund his struggling counseling center. Are those the types of facts you want to me to stick to?"

Mrs. Bachmann's smile masked her anger. "Before you begin sharing those allegations, Ms. Flanagan, you should know that the Tea Party is in the process of collecting and sifting through the _facts_ of the American Vampire League's connection with Russell Edgington."

"The American Vampire League has no connection with Russell Edgington."

"Are you sure about that? Or would you like to take the chance?"

"I think I'll take my chances," Nan replied.

"Ms. Flanagan, you certainly have some choot-spa. This might be one heck of an interview."

Nan narrowed her eyes and lightly tapped a nearby stagehand on the shoulder. His eyes popped up from the clipboard he carried. "What's our ETA?" she asked him. The young man ruffled his hands through his brown hair and spoke briefly into the mic that cradled his head. He looked at the two women. "You're on in twenty seconds," he replied. "You both ready?"

Nan looked over at Mrs. Bachmann, who bared her teeth in a fake grin. "Never been readier!"

* * *

><p>Bill walked slowly up the steps to Sookie's home, attempting to catch a glimpse of her through the lighted windows. He raised his hand and rang the doorbell, running his hand through his hair and straightening his suit jacket. He saw Tara peek around the window, her eyes widening slightly. "Shit," he heard her utter before the door swung open.<p>

"Good evening, Tara," he said with a polite smile.

"Sookie ain't here, Bill." She immediately moved to close the door, but Bill put his hand up. "Actually," he said, "I did come to have a word with Sookie." He gave her a quick look. "But I have some questions for you, too."

Tara looked at him oddly. Bill stared at her, expectantly. "You're not coming in," she said. "We can talk out here."

Bill nodded, and took a step away from the door, looking out over the porch banister toward the lawn. Tara stepped outside, making sure to leave the door open behind her. Bill turned toward her and peered at her stoically. "Have you had any contact with Marnie Patterson?"

Tara looked surprised. "What? Since we reversed the spell?" She shook her head. "Hell no. And I'm perfectly fine with that."

"Has Lafayette seen her at all?"

Tara shook her head again. "Not that I know of. He didn't want anything to do with her in the first place, you know." She cocked her head. "Why?"

"I'm just keeping an eye on my town," Bill responded with a smile. "I _am_ King of Louisiana. It is my duty."

Tara rolled her eyes. "Right, right." She shifted, and put a hand to her hip. "No offense, but I don't keep up with vampire politics."

Bill nodded. "I assume Sookie is at work?" he asked.

Tara nodded. "She sure is. I'm on my way there soon enough."

Bill nodded again and looked past her, into the foyer of the house. "And where is Eric tonight?" he asked, attempting to sound casual.

Tara shook her head. "In his hole? I don't know. I haven't seen him yet tonight. Which means it's a good night."

Bill pulled his gaze from the foyer and back to her. "Well, I thank you, Tara. I think I will attempt to catch Sookie at Merlotte's." He turned to leave, but a voice caused him to turn quickly back to the open door.

"That's a wonderful idea, Bill," Eric said, smiling. "I think I'll accompany you, if you don't mind."

* * *

><p>Nan walked out of the studio towards the waiting car, her phone glued to her ear. "Just get that clip to Maher ASAP," she stated, opening the car door and slipping inside. "He could use it during the show. He loves panning Bachmann. And send him a case of True Blood, B Negative. Thank you." She dropped her phone on the seat beside her and turned her attention toward the brunette assistant that sat on seat next to her. "Say something intelligent to me," she commanded.<p>

The brunette looked over at Nan, slipping her glasses off her nose and laying them on her iPad. "Like what?"

"Anything. I've spent the last half hour with a fucking idiot. Just say something smart, goddamnit."

The brunette smiled, and tossed her iPad onto the seat opposite them. She turned back to her boss. "Eurozone banks are proposing a tax to help bail Greece out of its financial problems. Although Germany, France, and Britain have their concerns about it. Greek citizens, however, are still up in arms about their pensions." She peered at Nan with a slight grin and ran her tongue across her upper lip, inching closer to her.

"Pensions." Nan scoffed. "These pussies would've never made it under Ottoman rule."

The brunette smiled. "You were there?"

Nan nodded. "Complete boys club."

The assistant tossed her head back and laughed, reaching her hand up to the tie that held her hair up and yanking it out. Her brown locks flowed over her shoulders, and she lifted one leg over Nan's lap, straddling her. "Whatever did you do with yourself?" she asked, running a hand through the blonde hair and bringing her lips down to meet Nan's.


End file.
